The Email Series
by Sgate2001
Summary: Pushed The Button: Someone takes a chance... Raw: Inner reflections about the reply. Flipside: An alternative ending. Femslash
1. Pushed The Button

Pushed The Button

She closed her eyes and pushed the button. The simple, harmless button decorated only with the letters S E N D on it. She closed her eyes, pushed the button and sealed her fate. All she had to do now, was wait…

It had seemed like a good idea at the time, to confess her sins and bare her soul in an email. The simple detachment of telling a blank piece of paper how she felt, and yet the second she pressed the button she was overcome with a sense of dread. A chill ran down her spine and the room began to spin, she was glad she was already sitting down as her knees turned to jelly What had she just done?

She wondered whether their friendship could sustain such a confession, how these feelings would be received. She wondered what response she would want and more importantly what response she would actually get. Could she handle flat out rejection? Could her friend do that to her? Was she prepared enough to find out?

Oh yes, it seemed very much like a good idea at the time, but now she found herself sitting there for an indeterminate amount of time waiting for a reply—that was if she was even going to receive one! A good idea indeed!

She tried to pass the time playing idle games on the computer and running long overdue virus scans, and yet she still found herself waiting. This, she decided, was very much the worst part—not knowing. If her friend had immediately replied with a "thanks, but no thanks" reply or even, "do you really think I'm going to speak to you again?" response, that would have been something preferable to the waiting. The waiting game. That's what she was doing, playing the waiting game, although she couldn't see what was so fun about this game. She certainly hadn't been informed of the rules, but she could clearly see what was at stake and how much she could lose if the outcome didn't favour her. The waiting game must be a form of gambling, or so it seemed to her. She just hoped she hadn't bet too much.

As time slowly ticked away, her thoughts began to wander. She tried to stay positive, thinking of all the good times she had spent with her friend. Using the logical side of her brain she knew that whatever the outcome of the email, she would most likely still have a friend at the end of it. It might take a while to re-build the shaken friendship -- let's face it, confessions of love can rock the best of relationships when they're not reciprocated -- but at least they would still have one left to work on ... she hoped.

Beep Incoming mail…

This was it, the moment of truth, had she correctly judged their friendship? Would she even still be able to count her as a friend? Or maybe she would get everything she had ever dreamed of. She closed her eyes as the cursor hovered over the "New Message" icon, she took a deep breath and then, she pushed the button…


	2. Raw

Raw

It doesn't seem so raw now, it's been a day since you gave me your answer and dashed my hopes of happiness. At the time I understood, I mean how could I not? What was I supposed to do, force you to love me? No one could do that.

But afterwards, a few hours later, after some quiet reflection or what some may describe as 'dwelling', my thoughts changed. It wasn't so much the words you used, which were kind and honest—I'd expect nothing less from you. It was the sentiment in general that began to cut like a knife. The more I thought about it the deeper the blade would penetrate my heart until I found it difficult to breathe. Despite the fact that I could literally feel the cold, hard steel in my chest I felt empty inside, shell shocked…numb.

That was it. I had taken the chance, confessed my love, opened myself completely to you and stood there at my most vulnerable asking for only one thing in return, for you to love me. I was refused. You said it wasn't possible for so many reasons, to be honest they lost their meaning after your answer was clear. You had said "no", and that was the only thing I could process. I tried to be the friend and listen to the reasons why. It wasn't as if they didn't affect me, I had a vested interest in what you were saying, but it all felt very…surreal. Honest, I was listening to what you were saying, but however valid they were they were still the reasons why you couldn't be mine.

People don't normally have the courage, it's just one of those things. But when they do, when they decide that someone is worth the risk and that they can do it, the seemingly impossible and highly daunting task of making that kind of declaration to a friend, it's supposed to have a happy ending, right? It always does in the movies, or on T.V. and in stories; they normally get their happy ending. So where's mine? I did my duty, I gave my declaration, so where's my love and happiness? That's the problem with real life, you can't re-write the story halfway through. You can't change the channel if you don't like where the story is heading. You have to let it play out, one shot, one chance…one life. That's one of the things I've learned, there are no second chances or 'do-overs', well except in Teal'c and Colonel O'Neill's case, but that's beside the point.

Yesterday my world ground to a halt, but it didn't crash, at least I have that. It doesn't seem so painful now, which is a good sign. If each day it gets a little easier then I can live with that. I know it's not your fault, I do, it's just the way it is, and it can't be helped. We will go on from here, hopefully the embarrassment I feel will fade and the pain will subside. But we will survive; because another thing I learnt yesterday was that you are my friend, a true friend, and for that you will always be worth fighting for. If friendship is all I can have, then it's what I will willingly accept. Having you in my life is the most important thing. Life's full of disappointments, it's just the way it goes. We're all the Fates' little playthings and they can toy with us as they wish. But at least today, it doesn't seem quite so raw.


	3. Flipside

Flipside

Her hair shimmers in the light and it reflects into my eyes. I start to fidget in my chair, I'm nervous. I don't know why, it's not as if we haven't done this before, it's just dinner after all! But it's not anymore; it's not 'just dinner', not since the email. This is our first date. I reach my hand out across the cool, crisp white cotton tablecloth; she takes the hint and places her hand in mine. I squeeze it lightly and I can feel that it's warm and clammy…she's nervous too.

We both have taken the chance, we've placed out bets, taken the gamble and the dice are still rolling. It is a big risk, not just because of today's political climate, but also because of our friendship. We both rely on each other too much to not make this work. But we are sensible people, rarely governed by our emotions; it's not the military way. We've decided to see where this was heading before we involved Cassie; new relationships are hard enough without that kind of extra pressure. But as I sit here studying the delicate features on her face, I know it's worth it…she's worth it.

The world, and everyone else in it gradually fade away until only we remain. The moonlight is still dancing in her hair and the candlelight glimmers in her eyes. She looks amazing. If I had ever seen her look like that before, I never would have hesitated and I sure as Hell wouldn't have even considered "no" as a possible answer.

The waiter arrives with the food and our hands fall apart and retake their positions on our respective sides of the table. We sit here in a secluded corner of the quiet restaurant on the outskirts of town, chosen as one of the least likely places to be spotted, stealing glances at each other as we slowly devour our meals. There's a different feel to our outing this evening, an intense undercurrent that was never there before, or at least I never noticed it before. Maybe it had always been there, either way it doesn't matter now. The only thing that does matter is the way she makes me feel, and right now, that's alive.

Our date is drawing to a close; now it's starting to become awkward, well…sort of. I can see she is feeling it too; does she walk me to my door? Do we hold hands on the walk up the path? Does she follow me in and continue the evening over some coffee and liquor? The answer is of course yes to all these questions. And as I step over the threshold of my house, her hand wrapped securely in mine, I silently thank her once again for sending that email.


End file.
